


In Plain Sight

by FireEye



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, Role Reversal, trope bingo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-01
Updated: 2013-11-01
Packaged: 2017-12-31 02:38:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1026299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FireEye/pseuds/FireEye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wherein the future Champion of Kirkwall stumbles across the sole remaining son of Starkhaven's Principality's dirty little secret.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Plain Sight

The sun rose low over the water, casting the beach in a sea of blood.  The acrid smell of burning flesh was an affront to grace, but there was work yet to be done.  None of the mercenaries were left alive, but the swift, roguish woman that had come unbidden and rather unnecessarily his rescue had taken an arrow to the chest for her trouble.

Sebastian wrapped one hand around the shaft of the arrow, sliding his fingers down to where it met her bloodied chest, smoothing back her hair with the other.  It would have been easy, even less effort on his part, to let her die – to keep his secret safe.

But far too many people had died on his account.

~*~

Stone surrounded her, but neither pressed in nor decrepit earthen like the Deep Roads.  A bird sat in the single deep-set window, cheerfully warbling to its heart’s content.

As Hawke sat up, she tangled her fingers in the fabric at her chest.  The loose-fitting tunic wasn’t hers... but, on the bright side, nor was it soaked in her blood.  And it smelled pleasantly of votive wax and incense.  Studying the flagstones beneath the cot, she puzzled over the last moments of her memory.  That being...

“Good morning.”

She jumped three feet in the air, reaching for a dagger that – naturally – was no longer there.

The Grand Cleric’s lost princeling sat in a high-backed wooden chair in the corner, with a heavy tome across his lap and a cheerful smile across his face.  “I trust you’re feeling better?”

Hawke’s hand pressed against her chest – solid, no wound, no arrow.  Her eyes narrowed sharply as the pieces fell together like chips on a puzzleboard. 

“Ah, I see.” Mage progeny would ruin the authority of the Principality of Starkhaven, no matter how far removed from the throne.  “Andraste’s fabled blessing upon the faithful in Kirkwall.” Yet, sequestered within the walls of the Chantry, no one would see a spirit healer hiding in plain sight under the veil of miracles.  “That’s been your doing.  All this time.”

Sebastian Vael shrugged.  His smile faltered, almost imperceptivity.

“If I have sinned in my ambition, or... well, _elsewhere_ ,” and there was a lilt to his voice to imply that perhaps he _had_ , “it is for the Maker to decide.”

Sin or no, his smile was catching.  Hawke grinned, blinking in astonishment and flat out admiration at the _cleverness_ of it all.

“Does the Grand Cleric know?”

Sebastian blinked himself, taken aback by her question.

“Yes,” he admitted. “She does.”

“The Viscount?”

“No.”

“The Knight Commander?”

“ _No_ ,” Standing, he folded the book closed and placed it on the chair, and Hawke found herself staring up at him.  “And I would thank you not to tell her, though it is of course your prerogative to do so.”

“Why would I do that?”  Her mouth twisted in a mercenary smile.  “My brother and my sister both were free mages.  I’ve practically been an honorary apostate all my life, except in my case without the fun of getting to smite my enemies with fireballs.”

“That’s twice I owe you.”  He looked away.  For an instant Hawke thought he was blushing, but the rest of him followed suit as he moved to the rooms inner corner.  He turned back, and she caught her breath.

“I saved this,” he said.  Holding out the bow, he handed it to her delicately, and she ran her fingers along its familiar curve.  “The string needs replacing.  But it is truly a work of art.”

“My father made it for me.”  She shook her head, but the bow remained in her hands, clasped to her breast like a child would hold a doll.  Sebastian’s smile fell, and the question danced behind his eyes.

“I really should go,” she said, before he could ask.  “No doubt my mother thinks I’ve fallen down a well, I really oughtn’t worry her so.”

Sebastian’s mouth moved to speak, but he paused and his smile returned.  “As you will.”

His voice stopped her at the door.

“See you at the service?”

Looking back, she found him staring at her openly, a mix of guarded hope and bracing for disappointment.  She smiled, biting her tongue between her teeth.

 _Oh, yes, I should certainly think so_.

**Author's Note:**

> For the sake of the Trope, let it be known that technically, this one Hawke is usually a wizard - thus why the twins are both magi. SHAKIN' IT ALL UP.


End file.
